are dripping on his pate’
with bitterness and a lime
twist. He can hold it up
and fill his glass with grouse

and rash. Go back for seconds
and thirds as he dines on
his adjectives. But he can’t cut
into the gristle of 2007 with

a fork and a knife. He can write
a paper or a book. But he shall not
enter the nook and granny, even as
it’s dripping brandy.